


Request

by orphan_account



Category: Animal Crossing: Pocket Camp (Video Game), どうぶつの森 | Animal Crossing Series
Genre: Existential Crisis, Game Mechanic Analysis, Gen, Player/NPC dynamics, This Gets Really Dark, lmao sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 10:43:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13716009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The request mechanic in Animal Crossing: Pocket Camp becomes a little strange when you realize that a piece of paper can suddenly make an animal realize they need something more.





	Request

Almost clockwork, day after day, the campground manager asks for favors from every villager they see. They go through the motions, asking for a task to complete from the campers, only to easily return minutes later with the items they want.

You begin to run out of requests, meagerly attempting to stall for time by making the requests a little more complicated, choosing the items that were in a little more high demand. Rosie also wants a squid, maybe I should ask for three? You don’t even have to speak sometimes, it seems as though they know you well enough to guess what you’re thinking. The campground manager slips back with your items like it was the easiest thing in the world.

  
This time, you spot the orange flash of a request ticket in their hand. Suddenly you could use a little more. A gnawing beast in your chest tells you to fight it.

“Huh? Did you need something?” You say, or maybe you didn’t. It doesn’t matter anyway. The words spill out regardless of how much you try to stop them.

“You did it! And it’s not easy to get things like this.” You put the butterfly away in your pocket numbly. Fumbling around some more, you hand over some cotton and 100 bells in return. You didn’t pack these when you came here, but you have them now. It’s best not to question it, but now you can’t stop yourself anymore.

Upon further thought, you can’t remember when you came here anyway. You can’t remember if there was a ‘you’ before the camp. You can hear the mantra of the campground manager’s footsteps always, lurking to catch a butterfly or shake a tree. _Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptap_

The sound distracts you from even thinking about it a second longer. Your attention phases back to the human standing in front of you.

“Oh man! I’m feeling great, and it’s all thanks to you!” You’re not.

Their dull, emotionless eyes see nothing, and yet everything. They know your every thought, every move, every sentence you speak. You have no choice but to remain in their campground. There is no end.

They don’t even move an inch when they engage you again. You hesitate for a moment, waiting for their voice. When they don’t speak again (as always), you fill the void they left.

“What can I do for you?” You say. They’ve heard it before. They don’t care.

“Oh, you really shouldn’t have! But I’m glad ya did!” They really, really shouldn’t have.

You reach for the baggie they hand you. Your arm is as heavy as a boulder and so, so fatigued, but you lift it anyway. What did you ask for? You rack your mind, searching for what you said, but you’ve asked for countless bugs and fish already. Everything blurs together.

You want them to be finished with you and move on to someone else, but there is nothing to truely finish. You open the bag, accept the oranges. You have nothing else to do. Do you have a purpose? Do you even exist?

You pull out an easel from somewhere, put a bug in a case on a log. Suddenly, there’s something in your paws.

“It’s so fun drawing bugs with friends!”

You haven’t even put your pencil to the canvas in a long time. You just stand there, mechanically moving your arm, praying that eventually they will tire of you.

You give them more bells, more wood, more cotton. Where was this all coming from, anyway?

_Friendship level up!_

That’s not you who speaks, but it feels as though you opened your mouth and said it yourself.

You can feel something filling your chest to the brim. Your chest becomes warmer, straining to hold it all in, and then the feeling stops coming. You can feel your body pushing to feel something more than it lets you.

You feel like you are being pulled apart at the seams and crushed together from the inside. Your chest is so tight you can barely breathe, and yet you keep a smile plastered on your face, as though this were the best thing to ever occur. _Make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop why why why WHY_

You want to curl up and lie down until it’s all over. Your legs are locked in place, not cooperating.

“Here’s your reward!” You say without any infliction. The feeling of almost spilling over with whatever has filled you is like a fog, you can’t think straight anymore. You produce a bottle from somewhere and pawn it off to the expecting manager.

They engage you again. It never ceases for a moment.

“This campsite is so great! I never want to leave!” You say. That’s a lie, that’s a lie, that’s a lie.

You tried, once, so long ago, to stay in the loop of villagers outside the campground, requesting the most ridiculous combinations of furniture. You made a deal with some omnipotent force that if you were able to restrain them, you could stay as far away from them as you could. But the manager was still somehow able to combine the conflicting themes.

How long have you been here? Days? Months? Was anyone or anything counting anymore? You try to will yourself to ask, but no sound comes out.

Your distress is completely ignored, the world continues to turn without acknowledging it. You followed some unwritten script, drifting. Everything felt fake. The sun rose and set, sometimes at the right time, sometimes at the will of someone else. Sometimes, seasons came and went without warning. The entire world revolved completely around the campground manager, sometimes dependent on them.

“You’re a really great friend. I want you to have this.” Someone demands that you give them something more for their time, and you oblige. You have to, you have no idea what it’s like without the campground manager. You get a sick, disturbed feeling in your stomach that it might be worse.

You give them a prized possession or earning. You can’t remember what significance it has or once had to you. It doesn’t matter anymore.

Beyond this world, there is nothing but an inky void. No friends, no home, nothing. It is out of your sight, almost taunting you, but at the same time you do not want to go there, as if it has a location at all.

You want to tell them you hate them, but they’ve moved on to some other unfortunate soul. Another prop in their perfect campground. Your mouth closes down as though you never had one.

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. Just leave me alone and never come back._

They don’t hear you. Maybe they truly can’t, or maybe you don’t want to accept why this is happening out of spite.

You don’t hear their response. It doesn’t mean anything anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I was playing animal crossing one day and I realized I could make some story out of how monotonous the game is whoops
> 
> Also reigns references? Reigns references.


End file.
